Telling my Job.

Preparing to tell my job about my pregnancy has it been hard. Actually, breaking the news in general has been difficult.

Questions on whether I should make it dramatic…”I have something to tell you…” or just slyly mutter it under my breath to let it sink in, I’ve been debating on how I spill the news to each person. But each experience is completely different and filled with different reactions, and I love that about sharing. 🙂

Yesterday I had to tell my job. I work at a high school, I’m actually the youngest person who works at my district.

My district is quite possibly, the richest in California. The teachers are all graduates of Stanford, Cal, or one of the other UC’s. They only take student teachers from the Stanford program. It’s “that school” where the kids come to school in Escalades and the teachers are humbled by the fact that ANY kid has the potential to sue…if things don’t go right.

Despite all these bells and whistles, the district is completely SERIOUS about the quality of education and how it runs itself. The principals really care and I have yet to be in a class where I am not satisfied with the teacher.

In a way, I feel that having this baby was…okay. I had been working in a restaurant for 4 years to support my traveling habit, and had I not quit a year ago to work at this district, I would definitely not have the health benefits that mine provides. Or the security of a job, or a regular pay check…even when I’m on maternity leave. It’s funny how that works. Things could definitely be much, much worse! And maybe, in some way this was meant to happen.

My boss…is a bit, how do I say this, scatter brained. With good reason! She is the head of the department and half the time has papers coming out her ears. Yesterday was funny, she mumbled, “I’m getting stressed out because I’m starting to spread…” Upon a closer look she literally had “stations” around her classroom of different things she was working on. I definitely know how that feels.

I picked the perfect time, right before I was off.

“Susan, can I speak with you? In private?”

Her eyes darted my way. I had been cutting paper and working on classroom stuff this whole time, I hadn’t said a word for over an hour.

It was a look of worry. “We can talk now?” She lifted herself off of her seat at her desk and manuevered through the student desks to where I was.

“It’s serious.” I said, as she sat down.

Her body suddenly locked up, I had her attention.

“Susan, I just wanted to let you know….I’m pregnant.”

I didn’t know that her eyes could get any bigger, but they widened with surprise.

“We need to talk.” she said firmly.

Reckless Abandonment

I’m pregnant.

Isabel’s pregnant.

I’m choosing to have the baby.

Isabel’s not.

And although I don’t agree with her decision to terminate the pregnancy, I get her reasoning. I get it. She’s not prepared. But neither am I. I’m not glamorizing family life and telling you all that this is what I wanted for my life, that raising a child was what I saw for myself at 24.

No, I wanted to travel the world. I still want to travel the world. I wanted to eat fine food, get a job at a prestigious law firm, and rack up the money.

But now here I sit, an instructional assistant at a high school, pregnant.

This isn’t a sob story though. I know I sound bitter. But I truly feel that I have a responsibility to this child now, and I will love it and give it the best life that I can. I have been reading that at 6 weeks the baby already has a heartbeat. How can anyone rationalize that that’s okay? That it’s a little embryo, it’s a little cell? Everyone – it is not a little cell. It’s growing organs, it’s already rapidly developing…and you take a little pill and kill it inside of your body. I’m sorry. But that’s not me.

And it bothers me, that whenever I log onto Facebook I see Isabel still partying, with a beer in her hand, drunk.

She hasn’t even taken the abortion pill yet.

Why is she torturing it? And am I wrong to be completely insulted by this? She knows how I feel about this…how I feel about life, what I’ve chosen. I feel like these actions are spiteful, despite her trying to talk to me again.

Any help on this matter would be greatly appreciated…

Dreams

They says it’s quite common for pregnant women to have wild, vivid dreams. According to the books I have been reading, these crazy dreams have something to do with the increased hormones in one’s system along with the fact that pregnant women undergo lighter sleep than most people do. (because they’re frequently woken by the need to go to the bathroom, cramps, etc.) This light sleep means that pregnant women are likely to wake up during the REM phase of dreaming, and are able to recall dreams more vividly, with greater detail.

My dreams have been off the wall, lately. Last week, I had a dream where my grandmother (who passed when i was 9) was talking to me. I asked her, “is that really you?” She smiled and said yes, then stretched her arms out to me. I woke up really shocked, dreams with my grandmother are few and far between, but they make me feel like I have some kind of connection with “reality,” not as we know it, but how it actually is.

Then last night, I had a dream where Liam Hemsworth (yes…Miley Cyrus’ boyfriend) was courting me. It was strange. He heard me playing the piano and came over, and then for some reason there was an organ in the room also and he was teaching me to play it.

When I woke up this morning, I Googled him, because I wasn’t even sure who he really was. Then I found him, and a clip of him with Miley and she’s playing the piano. It was weird, I haven’t even seen the movie yet. Just weird.

This was kind of a mindless post…but just one of the many changes that are happening right now. that is all. XO

Life as we know it.

“What happened?” I was trying to slow Isabel down now, who was walking frantically to my car.

We were both leaving Planned Parenthood. I had found out I was pregnant yesterday and had woken up Isabel this morning to tell her. Instead of surprise, Isabel said she might be pregnant also.

“Let’s…just, get in the car.” Isabel said in a flurry, papers in hand. Her expression was unreadable.

Quickly I unlocked the doors and climbed into the drivers seat. We sat in silence for a minute.

Then she turned to me, a “that’s that” look on her face. “I’m 6 weeks,” she shrugged.

My mind gaped open. I quickly put my hand over it. “No…”

“Yes.” She put the papers that were in her hands into mind. “Look.”

In my hands were abortion papers, an acknowledgment of a positive pregnancy test, and a date and time when she could get the pill.

My heart sunk. “Oh.” I said, motionless.

“I’ll come back later today,” she said quickly, “you can just take me home now if you want.”

I started the car. “Okay.”

It was another car ride in silence. Isabel heard a song on one of the hip hop stations and turned it up. It was a song by Black Eyed Peas. It was so inappropriate I almost felt sick to my stomach.

Planned Parenthood

“Noo…”

“I know…,” she said, rubbing her eyes open, “I’m almost positive, I have an appointment at 10:30 at Planned Parenthood.”

I had woken up my best friend Isabel to tell her I was pregnant. Her response? She thought she was pregnant, too.

“I don’t even know how much an abortion costs…”

My head whipped back to her. “You’re going to get one done…” I said. It was more like a statement than a question.

“You’re not?”

I shook my head from side to side, the tears started to roll down my cheeks again. They had been such easy creations lately.

“Samantha…you’re going to have a baby?”

“Yes.” I said defiantly.

Isabel rubbed her head, “You…can’t…”

“I can’t do that, Isabel. I just can’t.” I said, choking back tears and gasps between words, “This isn’t what I wanted for my life, Isabel, but I’m not going to end a life because I don’t find it convenient.”

She rose quickly and gave me a hug. “It’s going to be okay…come with me to the appointment.”

I nodded solemnly and grabbed my sweater from my bag to put on. “I’ll wait here while you get ready,” I said, as I put my arms through the sleeves.

————————————————————————————————-

The ride was quiet. I was driving and my mind still felt like it was churning, turning over thoughts left and right.

We got to the clinic at 10:15.

Plopping down on the blue chairs, I looked up to see the movie ANTZ playing up on the screen. Little children scampered around while parents sat in a fixed stare. My future, I projected horrificly.

A door opened. “Isabel Woods?” a woman in a blue scrub outfit beckoned.

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” Isabel reassured, “wait here.”

I nodded again. As soon as she was through the doors, I tilted my head back, eyes closed. I had to chill out for a little bit, needed to keep my sanity for a couple minutes, if I could.

——————————————————————- 15 minutes later…

Isabel breezed through the door. “Let’s go,” she said quickly, ushering me out with a whirl.

“What’s up?” I asked, curiously…

“Let’s GO.“

…too

At 6:30AM I woke up in a sweat. You know those moments when you wake up, those 2 minutes when all is right in the world? And then all of a sudden in one jarring moment, it all starts rushing to you…the memories of yesterday. That one thought that was picking at your brain before you went to bed rears again.  I knew that this time, I wouldn’t be able to go back to bed.

“I have go to home.” I whispered to Jason.

His eyes squinted open as he looked at me. “Okay.” He leaned over and gave me a groggy, but sincere kiss.

I gathered my things and tiptoed quietly through the house. I got in the car. Life was starting to change  already and I couldn’t stop it. I turned my key.

“Good morning bay area!” The radio DJ sang. “It’s going to be a beautiful day today, high in the upper 70s, it’s going to be gorgeous…try to get outside, if you can!”

I cringed. I couldn’t be farther away from those emotions. I felt jealous of almost every single car around me. Especially the couples who were childless. I know that’s cruel, but I couldn’t help but yearn for that life again. It was just yesterday…wasn’t it?

I was driving dazed, watching everyone drive who was dressed for work…we were all human beings completely detached from each other. Traveling on our own wavelength. I started to cry again.

And as I exited off of Camden Avenue, I decided that home is not where I wanted to be. I had to tell someone, I had to cry to a girl. I veered right. I had to tell Isabel.

It was 7 in the morning but I knew her parents wouldn’t mind…they were always up early anyway. I rapped on the door, but instead of waiting diligently by the peep hole, I sat down, my head in my hands.

Her mom opened up.

“….Samantha?”

“Hi…Isabel home?” I stammered. Calm down, I pleaded with myself.

“Yeah, honey, she’s upstairs. Come in.”

I took my shoes off at the foot of the stairs and ran upstairs, excited to finally spill my grief. Isabel was still wrapped in her bed sheets, passed out cold.

“Wake up,” I shook her, “wake up!”

She opened her eyes, “S…Samantha? What’s wrong?” her voice was scratchy, she was squinty.

The door was open. I went over to quickly close it and ran back to her bedside, breathing hard.

“I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes boggled open. “Don’t tell me that.”

“Why not?” I asked, the tears were starting to flow.

“Because I think I am, too.”

Chamber opening

Abortion was never an option for me.

If I was 16, 17, maybe I would have thought it was somewhat permissible. But at 24, with my college degree and a boyfriend who had a full time teaching job, the thought of terminating a life just for a little more “fun time” was unfathomable.

After all…if something, someone had a chance at life, who was I to decide to take that chance away?

It was never even in the radar for me. I couldn’t see myself going to the clinic, picking up the papers…even setting foot in those doors seemed like a “never going to happen” dream. Wish I could have that sense of gall. But I could never live the rest of my life knowing that I had done that to something whose heart was already beating.

I was gasping for air now, a hyperventilating cry, a cry invested with emotion and heartache and…loss. All of my thoughts were selfish, of course. It was hard to think of everything I was to gain when thinking about everything I was about to lose.

We drove around, our minds somewhere else. Before we knew it, we were on the freeway that lead to nowhere but industrial areas. We decided to eat, to calm down.

And while sitting down over a water and sprite at Chili’s, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the new chambers of thought that were starting to open in my mind. All of a sudden Jason and I were having conversations I never dreamed about having…at this age, at least.

I know that change is inevitable. But it’s amazing how change works. In one split second your whole life can change, and all of a sudden you’re down a path and wrestling emotions that you would have never come across had you made a simple decision, a different one. But in my mind, that was what was handed to me, and I had to make the best of it.

Jason was surprisingly calm about everything. We talked about money, living situation, how this was going to affect our relationship. It was surreal to me that all the couples in there seemed happy and excited to be eating out and little did they know that 2 tables away…Jason and I had just found out we were expecting a child, and we were talking about it for the very first time. Life is crazy like that.

We got home and decided to try to get to bed, since it was close to 8:00 and we were both drained by the day anyway. But i couldn’t sleep.

Every few hours I’d wake, tossing and turning, shaking my leg in nervous angst…unable to register that there was something inside of me…something new, something living.

I used to drink and drink, and refuse to exercise and be completely reckless with what I put into my body, because I knew that I was only answering to myself. But now…I was being the place where something was beginning its first moments of life. I was housing life. I couldn’t believe it.

And everytime I woke up, Jason would rub my back and reassure me: “Baby, we’re going to have so much support. It’s going to be a beautiful experience.” Even though I knew he was right, I couldn’t shake the piling amount of stress and worry that was – by the hour – being added in layers from the moment the receptionist said it was positive.

But I slept, somehow. And in the morning I could only think of one thing.

I have to tell my best friend. I have to talk to Isabel.

Foreign language.

“You have to get off work, now.” I texted Jason.

I was driving and crying by now, rationalizing how being pregnant wouldn’t be that bad. But it wasn’t being pregnant I was afraid of. It was a child, taking over my life. It felt like a jail sentence.

Jason couldn’t get off work for another 20 minutes, so I parked my car and locked it and decided to walk. The leaves were being gusted by the wind, scratching the floor of the pavement. I had nothing but nature to listen to, and that pleased me for a moment…the cold air was calming me down.

I walked to the end, where there was a park. Children were climbing on the playground, a grandma was sitting on the bench mediating. I sat on the grass in the sun, picking out blades and watching bees hurry from one little flower to the next. For just a second I thought about a poem I had read, “Nature” by Ralph Waldo Emerson:

“The same scene which yesterday breathed perfume and glittered as for the frolic of the nymphs, is overspread with melancholy today. Nature always wears the colors of the spirit…..”

It was such a beautiful day, but I was trapped in my mind, everything was contextualized according to this huge weight that was on my hands.

Jason called. He was down the street.

I got up and started on the walk back. I hadn’t walked one block when he arrived in his green four-runner. I met his gaze but could not smile…it was incredible to think that many women are so happy when they hear of this, I felt sore that I was not.

“Let’s take another test.” he said, reassuringly, as he massaged my back.

After showing him the first, I took the second one out of its box and went into the bathroom. After I was done, I placed the test on the counter top, and walked quickly into the room.

“I dont’ want to look at it.”  I said.

I sat at the computer, looking for OB-GYN near the area. Jason went from room to bathroom, checking the test for me, until I had an appointment secured. Then he came into the room with the other test, it looked exactly the same.

“Let’s go.”

The drive to the doctor’s office was insignificant, but I felt like my mind was just chipping away at all the thoughts that were necessary in order to raise a child. What will become of my life? How am I supposed to have a decent honeymoon? What is everybody going to think?

I temporarily muted these thoughts as we walked into the quiet, barren lobby. The receptionist ushered me into the bathroom immediately, and gave me a cup to pee in.

I hurried up, placed it in the waiting bin and came out in the lobby to see Jason again. He looked reassured.

“It will take 5 minutes.” The receptionist shouted from the window.

A little girl came into the lobby from the medical rooms. She was flipping through her cell phone, playing. I was jealous of her.

The receptionist left to check the test, came back and left again. Finally she sat down in her chair.

“It’s positive.” She didn’t even leave her seat.

I hunkered down in tears. “We have to go,” I said, muffled by Jason’s shirt.

Jason nodded, grabbed my purse. As we were walking out, we heard the receptionist again.

“She’ll be 5 weeks tomorrow…”

Genesis.

I chose the check-out stand with a woman cashier, with hardly anybody in line. Putting things on the belt, I placed the take-home test slyly under a San Francisco Giants hat that I was also buying, because you know you can’t just buy the pregnancy test and let that be it.
 
When the cashier, who was an elderly woman, realized this, she scanned it, looked me straight in the eye, and asked me to have a good day. But it was reassuring, as if she was saying Honey, take care of yourself. The people behind me in line were buying a huge TV and could barely look over their shopping cart. It was a convenience I was grateful for.
 
Got home, fumbled with the box, tearing at the cardboard ends feverishly. The tests dropped into my hands and I quickly went over to the toilet. I didn’t even read the directions. Peed on the stick quickly, barely enough time and placed it on the top of the sink as I waited for the line to appear…
 
——————————————————— A couple of days earlier:

I knew I was late. My periods always came near the end of the month, and it was already the 28th. I began clicking through my facebook, through my text messages, trying to recollect when exactly my last period was. My nights were turning restless. Out of deep seeded fear, I’d wake up several times in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, hoping that my period would come. I even had dreams where it would come gushing forth and I’d be relieved. Then I’d wake up and my pee would be normal. I’ve never been so disappointed by pee. 
 
My boyfriend reassured me that it would come. But all of a sudden I was seeing all things pregnant. I’d go over to a friend’s house and she’d be watching Juno. Or a SUPER pregnant woman would walk by, and then I’d see another. And then that commercial would come on for the iPhone where the woman tells her husband that they’re having a baby.
 
I found myself praying to God, asking him…begging him really, bargaining with him that if I wasn’t pregnant I’d be careful from now on.

After all, it wasn’t like I was some irresponsible kid with no sense of grasp on reality. I had graduated from Stanford. At 24, I felt ahead of the pack. I had traveled the world, often times by myself. I backpacked in Europe, Asia, Australia. I had a great internship under a travel writer at a local newspaper.

And  I was far from being nerdy. Every chance I got I was at this-and-this happy hour, pounding beers, drinking vodka, dancing until 2am. During the day I’d write and be professional, but at night, that was my time.

My friends and I weren’t rookie partiers. Especially Isabel. Isabel and I had been friends for longer than I could remember. We had similar heads: drinking was our forte. We were smart and we knew it, but hedonism was important to us…doing what made us happy, made us happy. Do first, consequences later was our manifesto.

I knew I could always count on her to bring me up, to elevate me to a world where we didn’t care what anybody thought. She was a natural leader, and people flocked to her. I just enjoyed having a shot in my hand and the escape. Together we’d dress for the night as if harnessing costumes. We’d drive into town with the windows down and the music blaring…we were the best people I knew.

That was my life and I prided myself on it. I was going somewhere, but I knew how to have fun. I had a perfect balance: brains, beauty, people who loved me…even those who envied me. But my life path was about to take a sharp detour in another direction. I was about to say goodbye to aimless traveling, to knowing every bouncer in town and coked out nights…

————————————————————————————————————

 I had taken this kind of test before. 2 lines if you’re pregnant. 1 if you’re not.

Quickly, the 1st line began appearing. I waited a little bit more. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, as if someone was slowly stabbing me…the second line started to appear. It was faint. But it was a lot closer to being there than not.

I threw everything in my purse and began running for the door, my keys clinking with me as I jumped in my car and started the engine….